


Inverted Horizon

by JenovaVII



Series: Metamorphosis Universe [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Bottom Asami Ryuichi, M/M, Role Reversal, Switching, Top Takaba Akihito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenovaVII/pseuds/JenovaVII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May, or may not, be considered a continuation to 'Light Up The Switch'. The tables are turned. Blatant pornography. Hidden meanings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inverted Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Anytime after Volume 6 - Escape & Love
> 
> A/N: Also this was supposed to be short but it kept dragging itself and, well... I just hope it doesn't disappoint. Much.  
> Also, in mature fiction, a large number of authors claim they get embarrassed and whatnot while writing intimate scenes. I... cannot for my life understand that. I personally find such scenes to be the fastest and easiest to write. It just comes out. Bam. I really do wish the other parts came out as quick and as consistent as this pointless-but-for-pleasure stuff. Siiigh.
> 
> Extra: marybala (at LiveJournal) made this beautiful gift art for me based on this story. Do check it out, it's amazing. Thank you again, Mary.

A taller form straddling a slightly paler one. The linoleum of the floor is freezing against them, not only against the soles of their feet, but anywhere it connects with skin.

A bottle of bath oil whispers a low thud, as it meets the ground and rolls over, letting a tickle of colorless liquid taint what was previously immaculate.

Silence; but for the single droplet of water falling from the tap of the long forgotten sink; but for the rich, deep voice that slices and burns.

"I own _all_ of you. Not only _here_...", the golden-eyed one says, as he slips a finger inside, "...but _this_ as well.", the voice keeps flowing, as the owner of it grasps with no little amount of strenght the hard-rock erection jutting from the low of the blond youth's abdomen.

Takaba moans at the dual stimulation. A grin is born on the dark-haired man's face.

Probing digits are retrieved from inside; Asami's from inside the lean body who lay underneath him, three of Takaba's from inside the older male.

Denying the boy of the touch to his core earns Asami a disappointed whine, but soon he's guiding his lover's member into his entrance, letting it slide in as smoothly as physically possible after the initial resistance.

"A-Asami..." A whimper; a moan. Of surprise; of pleasure; of adoration.

Asami lets out a slightly harsh breath of his own, as his lips curl upwards. A frown just barely adorning his features, his eyelids shut. "All of you belongs to me. Never forget that."

"I - _-_ _Nnn_ _._ "

Asami adjusts his hips, testing the angle, riping throaty sounds from the male beneath. "Seems fine; don't you think?", he asks as he thrusts himself hard once onto Takaba's blood-swollen lenght.

Both sets of lips let out a hiss at the much enjoyable friction.

Takaba's eyelids flash apart, a scowl painting his expression, harsh intakes of air sucked in and kicked out of his lungs.

 _He_ _looks_ _absolutely_ _fuckable_., Asami's brain declares without qualms. A silent snort. Were they not already having sex, Asami would sweep the kid off his feet, bend him over and have his way with him. As it is, they were, indeed, at the very beginning of something equally satisfying and Asami plans to make the best out of it. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Lust-clouded hazel irises look up at Asami, never straying from him. Takaba grips his thighs, palms caressing the ropes of muscle beneath the smooth, bronzed skin, and thrusts up. "Is... Is this okay...?"

The uncertainty is both adorable to unbearable degree and, somehow, slightly irritating, frustrating. Asami grabs one of Takaba's wrists and forces the younger male to grasp the mobster's own full, tight erect organ. "What do you think?" The smirk lacing his lips - _-_ his tone - _-_ cannot be helped.

The boy blushes.

 _Utterly_ _adorable_ _._ _Even_ _more_ _so_ _._

The wrist is freed but the brunet is pleased to see it lingers where he left it, slowly massaging and wringing hot sensations.

Making use of his now free hand, Asami brushes the other man's warm cheek with the back of it. "You are so very cute, Akihito."

The half-smile is still there, even as they move, joining their bodies through their lower parts. Shallower; then deeper; then not as deep; then deeper still. They pant out their excitement and look into each other's face, swallowing and enjoying the other's reactions.

"Yeah, well...", Takaba finally speaks, voice hoarse, "...I've to be for both of us, seeing as you're not cute at all."

And the brat _smirks_ ; an impersonation of himself, Asami knows. _Audacious_ _little_ _punk_ _._

Sadistic lips smirk right back, twice the usual power, and Takaba knows he's in trouble.

Asami tightens his muscles - _-_ impossibly so - _-_ which gains him one of those sudden, unstoppable cries that are pure, raw music to his ears.

"Oh? Don't you say.", he cruelly teases.

Takaba recuperates fast from the punishing action; the 'training' he's forced - seduced - into practically every single night, and evening, and morning... bearing more than the expected fruits, much to Asami's pride and enjoyment.

"Yeah, well... actually not 'at all', but you're only ever cute when you're sleeping, or sleepy. Or sick."

"Am I, now?"

"Yeah - _-_ _Aah_ _!_ _Mmm_ _..._ But you... you're beautiful. You're beautiful all the time."

On golden orbs, a glint sparkles sharply, dangerous. The pressure around Takaba almost too much for him to bare for a moment, before Asami gets up and off of him. The photographer immediately starts to thinking he'd done - said - something wrong. Already frowning, the panic accumulating and his mouth ready to ask,

"What's wron - _-_ "

His voice is lost to him as he watches, transfixed, as Asami stretches himself out on the cold ground of the bathing quarters. A king in its domain, as if laying on a reclining bench; the supreme noble surrounded by scantily-clad women and men ready and dying to satisfy his every whim, as they keep dropping grapes between his full lips and wishing they were one of the damned rounds of purple or green about to be ripped to shreds by the Lord's fangs.

Takaba wants to satisfy Asami's every whim very, _very_ much.

The faint, blue-ish light playing on the mature beauty's skin, enhancing the shadows that outline the fight-ready body; toned to perfection while remaining elegant and slender.

A few steps and Takaba drops to his knees, between a pair of long, masculine legs. The higher, outer section of own his legs brushing against Asami's inner thighs.

Their bodies connect once again, in a movement as natural as the act of breathing.

Takaba feels the yakuza's hot palms moving under his arms to come to rest at his shoulders. The hard, velvet-like flesh of Asami's waist greeted by fingers that seem to have a desire to delve inside and there remain for all the time to come.

"Was this what you wanted?"

Their gazes lock; dark pupils blown wide from arousal.

Cradling Asami's face with both hands, Takaba looks deep - drinks deep - and searches as if through his viewfinder. What he sought he found, for the answer that comes out is: "Yes. Yes, it is."

And he smiles.

*

Takaba is fucking him now, and Asami skims his phalanges all over the beautiful skin that is but a shade lighter than his own.

The blond moves slowly and sensually above him - _-_ within him - _-_ inside him - _-_ and he can feel everything, he can feel it all. The long forgotten stretch and burn; his insides getting used to the sensation of being driven into, of accommodating a part of another person - _-_ a part of _Akihito_.

The lighter male above him, his soft, light-brown locks swaying with the motion. The lines of the well-crafted face sketched into pure concentration.

Asami shook then, softly, his whole body drumming with the high, strong sensation. He allows an almost perceptible moan to claw the inside of his throat.

Takaba doesn't miss the mere hint of it, though. Big, widened eyes looking at him with rapt attention; the corner of that kiss-bitten lower lip drawn in by a pointy teeth. "... _Here_?"

That shock of concentrated electricity climbs up Asami's spine again. "Yes. _There_."

The kid looks elated, thrilled. Asami can easily see the brightness in the way Takaba looks - smiles - down at him. So open, so alluring. The entirety of his feelings showing on his face.

Asami encourages Takaba to continue; with unfaltering meetings of hips; with whispered, husky words at his ear.

It's hot. And it feels good. Too good.

He had known it would be like this, at first, with the boy; tentative and gentle, as the youth did his best to please him, while observing attentively every reaction to every his touch.

And he had known it would get rougher then, because Takaba already was more than instinctively aware of what both of them liked; the intensity, the pace, where to touch, how to touch... it was just a matter of adapting to the reverse situation.

Asami caresses with possessiveness along the sinewy, toned waist; the slim, strong hips. He digs his short, manicured nails into the firm roundness of Takaba's buttocks, as the younger man keeps pressing into that spot inside him that explodes and spreads pleasure everywhere.

Sweat trickles down their warmed-up bodies, no longer even taking notice of the layer of ice they lay upon. Their perspiration sizzling like ash - like a hot pan moved directly from the stove to under a stream of fresh water - as beads of it land on the floor.

The photographer carves his teeth into the flesh of Asami's throat, where he could best hear the low little sounds of enjoyment that rumble secretly and deep. It made him feel good, so fucking good, to know he could satisfy Asami like this; give him pleasure of the like the older man always made sure to drown him in. Made him feel good not purely in a sexual sense - and he felt plenty good in that area - but also shot into him a whole other different rush of emotional response that had little-to-nothing to do with the act of sex in itself.

They look at each other with eyelids at half-mast all the way through; whenever they weren't face-buried in the other's neck, or heads dropping down, as they watched between their bodies the place where they joined at.

A flush stronger than ever takes hold of Takaba's entire body; embarrassment, pride, pleasure, happiness. A maelstrom of all sorts of feelings controlling him and not letting anything else get in the way; not his fears, not his ideals, not his doubts. For this moment, Asami is all that matters.

Asami kisses the lithe male on top of him; forceful, hard. So painfully tearing at his hair, pulling him down.

Takaba growls and moans and gets the message and pushes one of Asami's legs up and thrusts all the way in and speeds up and he watches, amazed, as Asami throws his head back in a motion much too slow, mouth just barely aghast, silent and panting, faster. And he feels the yakuza's smoldering, elegant hands running upwards, downwards at both his sides, feeling Takaba undulate into him, tightening his legs around him, enticing him. He licks his lips as his eyes flutter to Asami's rock-hard member, looking ready to ejaculate any second now, and his fingers wrap firmly around it, like snakes that wouldn't let go until their prey had succumbed to the deadly pleasure of asphyxiation.

Asami hisses softly, jumping on Takaba palm, tightening around Takaba's own throbbing lenght, and Takaba's moans rise in pitch as he scowls fiercely in concentration, rocking strongly, deeply into lean, male, gorgeous lover. A litany of: " _Asami_ _,_ _Asami_ _,_ _Asami_ _..._ " spilling - flooding - out from between the gates that are his lips.

And then he loses his ability to talk - to breathe - to think properly for a moment, as Asami's body stiffens in total paralysis and restarts soon after, shivering with the aftershocks of a quiet and body-wrecking climax.

The blond almost chokes, as he himself releases with shocking intensity, and gets his breath back almost at the same time. He just slacks and falls onto the heaving of Asami's strong chest without care and searches for the other's mouth with tentative brushes of his own, as he can't even think about thinking of opening his eyes anytime soon.

They kiss.

It should, by all means, be a sweet kiss; an initiation to cuddling of some kind. But Asami has other ideas, and Takaba likes Asami's ideas better than cuddling just yet anyway, whatever they might be - even as he feels like dying and not even caring, after what had just happened between the two of them.

A battle of tongues. Asami's seem to say something like: _"_ _That_ _wasn_ _'_ _t_ _half_ _bad_ _._ _With_ _regular_ _practise_ _we_ _'_ _ll_ _get_ _you_ _there_ _."_ with a fucking smirk (and since when do tongues talk or think or smirk?), and Takaba's blushes purple ('cause tongues are already pink, and since when do tongues blush?) and lashes out with a: _"_ _Bastard_ _!_ _Just_ _admit_ _it_ _rocked_ _your_ _socks_ _!_ _Bring_ _it_ _on_ _,_ _I_ _'_ _ll_ _take_ _you_ _down_ _anytime_ _!"_.

And they went from there.


End file.
